


in mourning

by OneWhoTurns



Series: fictober 2019 [4]
Category: Oxenfree (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fictober 2019, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 08:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20889407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWhoTurns/pseuds/OneWhoTurns
Summary: #Fictober19 Prompt: 4.I know you didn’t ask for this.Michael should be dead.





	in mourning

He knows. He remembers. 

Alex didn’t think it would hurt this much. 

She’d been so grateful – or- or… amazed, maybe; overwhelmed in a way that made her heart feel full, overflowing – to have him back. To have Michael back. 

But he remembers. And he looks… disappointed. 

“I know you didn’t ask for this,” she starts, and she’s looking at him with pleading eyes, desperate and anguished, trying to explain, “But it’s the only way to keep you. To save you.”

Michael shakes his head. It’s like she can feel the hollow inside him spilling out. A lonely echo under a voice that sounds too weary. “Alex… I don’t belong here.” 

“Yes!” Alex grabs at his hand, wincing at her own enthusiasm as her nails dig in and quickly adjusting her hold. “Yes you do! You belong _right_ here,” she argues, throat tight, “right by my side! You’re supposed to be-” It’s no good. Her words choke off and she swallows hard. 

His head is still going. Back and forth, back and forth. _No, no, no._ He’s seen his death, he’s lived it; he knows. 

Her voice is hoarse and broken. “You’re supposed to make fun of my prom date, and tease me about the number of stuffed animals I want to bring to college, and-” She tries to smile, but no one could believe it. It’s too needing. Clutching for strength from the brother who was her rock for so long. “You’re supposed to help me move into my dorm, and tell me the secrets to sneaking food out of the dining hall.” 

“Alex…”

Teeth sink into her cheek at how forlorn he sounds, how pitying. She blinks, but her vision keeps swimming, and then tears are sliding in sluggish tracks down her face. “You can’t-” she chokes, hiccups, tries again. “You can’t leave me, Mike. Not again.” 

The first time, it had been her fault. All her fault. And, given the opportunity to change that? Of course she took it. Over and over again. Loop after loop. She’d regret something every night, but that was never it.

Getting her brother back. Getting his smile, and his ‘chin up, kiddo,’ and the advice she’d always roll her eyes at no matter how helpful it might be. That was everything. She could undo her mistakes, bring him back, and he didn’t have to be taken away so soon. 

But for him to _choose_ to go? 

It hurts even more. 

“This isn’t living.” 

She’s clutching hard enough at his hand to feel the bones creaking in her grasp, and Alex shakes her head as the tears come faster, holding her breath to keep from outright sobbing. That’s no good. The seal of her lips break and the noise is wet and messy and hopeless, and it’s easier when he puts his arms around her, but then it’s worse because this won’t happen again. It can’t. Because he’s dead, he’s been dead, he should be dead, and he _wants_ to be dead. 

Alex clings. Clings like superglue, like she used to when they were kids and he’d call her a monkey and tug at her ears. 

It’s like she can sense him slipping away. He’s solid, but she can feel the desolation seeping into him. Resigned. A ghost made flesh. 

Tears fall until there’s nothing left to cry, and she feels barren, a waste, the two of them empty vessels, and hers the only one with a spark of life left. He does what he can to comfort, and she feels the guilt of it suffocating her, that _he’s_ the one who has to do it. But he does. And his resolution is clear, even if he’s not thrilled for the outcome. 

That’s all they have for goodbyes.

Alex isn’t sure when she slips into unconsciousness. 

She fades in on reality, and fog is clinging to her hair, waves are lapping at the hull. 

“-It used to be a military base.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well it couldn't be all fluff all the time. First fictober angst.


End file.
